Paint Me A Portrait
by somatogenic
Summary: When the gang helps Kagome with a group project she missed, things get interesting . . . IY/Kag, Mir/San waff. A good 'pick-me-up-fic'.


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Paint Me A Portrait  
  
  
  
  
  
By warriorGL  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Regular disclaimers apply; I don't own Inu Yasha.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Sorry I've been sorta . . . dead in this section for a while. Was having a one-too-many-plot' crisis. So expect to hear from me soon. Enjoy this, though, for now.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
** - p r o l o u g e -**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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Birds flew out of the tree tops in a sudden rush, as well as the local wildlife scattering in a frightened frenzy just to get away from what ever had made the horrible growl that had shook the very ground, alerting even the worms and rabbits as they nested in, what had been, undisturbed peace.   
  
However, the occupants of a certain camp paid it no mind at all as they rested their tired feet for the night. After all, it _had _come from one of their own. A very disgruntled, sleepy, _aggravated_ one of their own.  
  
This . . . just . . . _ isn't _ . . . **FAIR**! screamed the disgruntled one, pulling at her messy, yet still wavy, black hair, in such a very uncouth manner, her camp mates took a _slight _interest in her sanity's well being. She pouted her pretty face into a dangerous looking frown, pinched her cheeks violently till they were red, and clenched her light skinned fists hard enough so that pink, half moon print prints appeared on her palms.  
  
A tense silence followed, hanging over the campers like a gray cloud, ready to thunder in rage at any second, but holding out until one least expected it. This only lasted for several minutes, til another girl, her appearance shadowed in darkness by the flickering flames, spoke up, her voice young, but words wise,  
  
Who ever told you life was fair, you have the right to bash them over with the nearest, heaviest object around*.  
  
A growl only emitted from the enraged miss, knowing the other's words to be painfully true. After a while, she sighed, her now released, angry steam practically visible in the moon's half light. A small boy, but with a fox's tail and feet, gingerly crawled to the black haired girl, and she scooped him up like a mother, snuggling him to her chest and cooing to him lullabies from her own childhood, remembered only because of the moment at hand. Faintly, a white haired teen smiled in the shade of a tree far above them, strange, yellow eyes watching them longingly, but with a fierce protectiveness and kindness, identifying him as the lover of the girl, though not in the way as one would usually use the word, yet describing their nature correctly.   
  
The girl who had spoken earlier, let her long, chocolate colored hair down and brushed it carefully, and soon a large, masculine hand covered her own small one clutching her comb, and she looked up to see a familiar youth, his purple eyes crinkling at the edges behind a curtain of stringy black bangs. She had the good grace to blush lightly, but turned and shyly continued to untangle her locks; both wincing when they reached a tough spot, and then beaming when nothing blocked their path, their hands working as one smoothly. The boy, old enough to be called a man, but too jovial for the description to taste correct on one's tongue, once they were done, slunk his hands around his partner's waist, pulling her back against him in a backwards hug, resting his chin on her shoulder and grinning at his genius.  
  
They all fell asleep that way; Kagome with Shippo in her arms, Sango and Miroku savoring their stolen snuggle before morning found them . . . all save Inu Yasha, that is, who's vigilant watch from the tree ahead never wavered the slightest that night, just like every other night, and every night to come.  
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** - a c t o n e , s c e n e o n e : k a g o m e s s u r p r i s e p r o j e c t -**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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Kagome-chan, what was it you were screaming about last night? Sango inquired politely, walking close to her friend to insure (well, relatively, as a certain half-demon's hearing is unnaturally acute) privacy, suspecting it to do with her pal's pre-period-pissyness' or a new grudge against Inu Yasha for a harmless act of his, or . . .  
  
the fifteen-year-old-time-travler rolled her eyes, it was _supposed_ {here she glared at Inu Yasha's red clothed back} to be a group project, but since _someone _{again, she shot death in a simple glance to the dog eared boy} dragged me back here too early, I can't do the assignment with them.  
  
Sango, a good listener, cringed appropriately.  
  
So . . . what _can _you do then, Kagome-sama; I'm sure it's important to your grade, this Miroku said, dropping back to the girls as he had overheard their conversation, Shippo balanced perilously on his shoulder like a pirate with his parrot.  
  
Kagome started, looking at her surrounding friends, concern written bluntly on their faces, I could just substitute with you guys!  
  
  
  
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** - s c e n e t w o : y o u v e G O T t o b e k i d d i n g m e ! -**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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This will be . . . interesting . . .   
  
As long as no one kills me . . .   
  
Feh! No fuckn' chance _wench_!  
  
  
Hey, hey! _You _guys wanted to help me, and this is the only way you _can _help! screamed Kagome, obviously up set by the group's reaction.   
  
  
Silence.  
  
  
Inu Yasha started to open his mouth, no doubt for a crude remark about how he never said anything about wanting to help _her _ . . . but was cut off with Kagome's curt;  
  
If I _don't _get this done, I'll have to spend _alot _of time back at home, making this thing up . . .   
  
  
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**Silence again.  
  
  
So, let me get this straight, Sango sighed, tired of all the childish bickering, we have to draw a picture of each other representing the particular person we're drawing, am I correct?  
  
Yes! And **I **don't see why you're all making such a fuss! I mean, I ever have the stuff to _draw _with! Kagome huffed, pulling up several pads of paper and pencils to match, ready to go.  
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** - s c e n e t h r e e : w h a t s T H I S t h i n g d o ? -**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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What . . . _are _those things . . ? questioned Miroku, staring at the odd' art utensils, while Shippo was adventurous enough to fiddle with a pencil, sniffing and then chewing it experimentally, spitting it out, sniffing it . . . Sango just fingered the paper skeptically, and Inu Yasha scowled at it all, distaste unhidden when Shippo spat a wad of paper at him, and prepared to strangle the brat . . .   
  
  
Kagome watched this, shocked, realizing that her 14th century buds didn't know what the hell _any _of this was. Her stupor was broken by a badly aimed spit ball splatting on her cheek, and that's not the only thing that broke . . .   
  
  
  
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** - s c e n e f o u r : e x p l a n a t i o n , p l e a s e ? -  
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O.K. . . . after Kagome had gotten her blood presser down, she continued, this {she held up a pad filled with paper} is paper, made from trees, and is for you to draw on. This {she held up a pencil} is a pencil, which you draw _with! _On the paper! The pink bit on the end is an eraser, which erases your pencil marks on the paper! Any questions? the last part of her statement was not really a question, as one could clearly tell from her tone, but a statement, daring you to say a word, or else'!  
  
They all stared at her, but said nothing, and took a pencil and pad each cautiously, whispering amongst each other, words, Kagome understood, that were not complementary to her.  
  
Got it?! Good! Get drawing! she growled, finally, positioning herself for the task ahead. The others followed her example, and soon all was quiet, save an occasional scribble and moan.  
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- s c e n e f i v e : s h o r t i n t r o s p e c t i v e s ! -  
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_What a joke!_', thought Inu Yasha, _I can't do this damn thing with out insulting anyone! But . . .feh! What do **I **care! I mean, no one's gonna be nice bout my ears an' shit, so why should ** I **bother being nice! Feh! Not that I even know _how _to be nice, anyway!'  
  
_A certain priestess across of him was thinking around the same lines . . . _Why do I bother! This is never going to turn out right! I mean, I'm not great at drawing all ready, much less drawing a boy with ears and . . . wait a minute! My teacher' not going to except a half demon! He'll think I'm making a joke out of the project! Wait a min . . . I forgot! This is a _representation_ of the person! So I'm covered! Sort of . . .   
  
_She wasn't the only one having difficulty with deciding bodily portions, though Miroku's worry's were of a different . . . kind . . . _ . . . should I make her breasts bigger, or smaller? I don't want her to be insulted . . . Should I make Kagome's smaller than Sango's? Or the same size . . ?'  
  
_The truly larger breasted woman had some interesting decisions of her own, _Should I _really _put these wings on Kagome-chan? It'd represent her all right! But she might take it the wrong way . . .'  
  
_Unlike the others, Shippo was having fun! _Yay! I like this stuff! When else can I make fun of Inu Yasha with out opening my mouth!'  
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- _s c e n e s i x : b e h o l d ! m y v e r y f i r s t p o r n p i c t u r e ! -_  
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_Every one finished?  
  
Board nodding.  
  
O.K. then! Sango-chan, you go first! Kagome chirped, reminding her self of her old kindergarten teacher, but shook the thought off.  
  
Blushing, she pulled out her sketches, one by one, carefully. The first was of Inu Yasha in his tree, eyes kind but smile a frown, looking down at something on the ground. Her drawing skill, to be kind, was nothing compared to her fighting skills, but it was still evident she had taken care with what she could, though it's design verged on a stick figure's.   
  
Glad to see that ya think I'm that crude! Inu Yasha remarked, chortling at her lack of talent.  
  
Shooting him a glare, she pulled out her next one of Shippo, which portrayed him sitting on a river bank, dabbling his feet in the water. This one, frankly, wasn't much better than the first, but more true to life than the last, of which she'd paid no mind to details, but in this one, she'd drawn in the picture on his shirt, and various things of that nature.  
  
Shippo just laughed; I could do better than _that!_. Miroku bonked him on the head.  
  
This one . . . kinda got messed up . . . she explained, the erased though hole above Kagome's upper lip, which looked like a beard, telling all. The picture was of Kagome shooting an arrow from behind, unfortunately, she'd forgotten her friend's curves, making her look even more masculine, and this only worsened it, for the picture, as a whole, looked like it was of a cross dresser, and not Kagome at all!  
  
Sango had to be persuaded by Shippo to show her picture of Miroku, who was badly drawn cross legged, and half smirking, though handsome. She's also drawn his eyelashes too long, so it, again, gave the impression it was of a transvestite.   
  
He could only smile weakly and laugh half heatedly at his miserable visage.  
  
Kagome yanked out her own drawings proudly, they being a tad better than Sango's, but not as realistic. Kagome, for some reason, had all drawn them in a cutesy, big eyed style (chibi) that made the four of them wince. They were all in adorable' positions, Inu Yasha caught eating a pie, Miroku his hair loose, casing Shippo, who had stolen his hair tie, and Sango, who, ridiculously, was drawn picking flowers, an act no one had ever seen or ever _would _see from the fierce hunter.  
  
After this had effectively embarrassed everyone, Shippo decided to show his, extremely proud; stick figures beating each other up obscurely in a mass of spattered blood. They unanimously decided it was better to never let Shippo see them fighting _ever _again.   
  
Miroku was now forced to show his; bland drawings of both of the males, but when he came to the pictures of Kagome and Sango, well . . . almost pornographic. Choice waves of the pool that they swam in covered the vitals, but that was all. The two figure had exaggerated breasts and hips, their stomachs next to nil. After shielding Shippo's poor eyes, the girls attacked him. Inu Yasha picked up the discarded picture, looked around, then shoved it in his pocket, smirking quietly to him self.   
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- s c e n e s e v e n : d r a w i n g i t l i k e i t i s -  
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When things had calmed down, as well as people, grinning a fanged smile while his eyes glinted mischievously, Inu Yasha revealed his first drawing, for he needed no coxing, an amusing picture of Kagome!   
  
They gasped  
  
It was . . . surprisingly good, _really _good in fact, but the mocking pose he'd placed her in, bending over and facing towards the viewer, pulling down one of her lower eye lids, sticking out her tongue . . . you had to laugh. But that wasn't all. He'd also drawn her with Shippo, who was, with one hand clutching Kagome's leg, and with the other, copying her pose exactly, his tail even sticking out comically from the back. Next to them was a huge pile of school work with the Shikon No Tama strewn atop it all. It was as if he'd done the drawing from life, the details done precisely. It was obvious that he'd spent a good amount of time and effort on the work.  
  
His next victim was Miroku, who he drew holding a mask half ways over his face, in the drawing, half of him was bright with sunlight (on the mask's side), while the other side was shadowed; this in it's self was odd. What stood out the most, though, was the expressions on both the mask and Miroku himself; the mask had Miroku's usual look upon it, careless and happy, but his real face was tormented, sad and worry filled. This drawing was as good as the first, but almost depressing compared to it's humorous counter-part.   
  
  
Miroku only smiled sadly at Inu Yasha, and shook his head, smirking ruefully.  
  
  
Who was left but Sango, who, by this point, was getting anxious. She needn't to be, for hers was absolutely gorgeous. She was sitting somewhat boyishly on a rock, Kirara beside her, sleeping with an eye open to watch for danger, with her sword pointed at the looker-on, blood dripping off it point grotesquely, her smile twisted sadly, but understanding that there were things that must be done, horrendous as they may be; a passionate, stubborn gleam in her eyes reaffirming this. Tiger lilies grew in the back ground, swaying with an unknown breeze, while some of their scarlet petals flew gently with the zephyr, a few tangled in her hair, which was drawn loose, flowing, and elegant.   
  
  
Sango embraced Inu Yasha warmly as a thank you and beamed appreciatively; Miroku and Kagome exchanged glances, even though they knew there was nothing between the two, just anguished similarities.**  
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- s c e n e e i g h t : m u s i n g s o f t h e a m u s e d -  
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Sango . . . -sama? Miroku whispered though the snoring of their companions, the stuffy suffix an after thought in the seductive night air.  
  
she breathed, heart beating fast at the way her name sounded naked for a moment without a -san or -chan.   
  
Sit with me? it was more of an order, but she didn't mind, and crawled over to him, his hands slipping around her back to draw her to him in a lax hug, Sango ending up sitting on his lap. He had been doing things like this lately, and, not that she was complaining, in fact, she enjoyed these late night cuddles, but it was . . . strange, for him to suddenly start to be so affectionate with her all of a sudden. So she asked him in a small voice why, feeling courageous in the anonymous dark. He chuckled, the vibration rumbling against her; she shivered.  
  
I . . . feel that the fight with Naruku is coming soon . . . the final battle, he explained, and she moved closer to him, loving his heated breath on her brow and how it tickled her bangs oh so slightly.  
  
  
After a while's silence in each other's company, she looked at him.  
  
What did you think of the project, today?  
  
  
I thought it was crap  
  
  
This rude response came from Inu Yasha, who dropped down from his perch to greet them in eery silence, his feet hardly making a sound as he landed, even from such hights. Sango moved away from Miroku awkwardly, disappointed that their huddle was brought to an end for that night. Inu Yasha rolled his eyes, but said nothing about it. Instead, he talked more about the project'.  
  
  
It was nice to draw again  
  
  
You've drawn before? Sango said plainly, trying to regain her poise.  
  
Yea, when I was littler, at this he glanced at Shippo indicating how little he was.   
  
  
It's nice to know you haven't lost that skill, then, Miroku chimed in, but he only looked at Sango meaningfully, his words falling flat with lack of interest.  
  
his voice was gruff; he didn't like those two being soft together, it made him jealous as he couldn't do the same with Kagome, as well as bringing up an unwanted, fuzzy feeling inside him, which he hated. Still, he was feeling generous, and hopped up his tree again, looking the other way this time so he wouldn't feel sickened by the couple below, and instead watched the face of his own beloved, creamy in the pale moon light.  
  
So, what do you think of Kagome's homework today, Houshi-sama? they had gotten in the same positions as before, and when he answered, she could feel his voice like distant thunder;   
  
I . . . could have been more serious about my pictures of you and Kagome-sama, he played with a lock of her hair, wrapping it around his finger tightly.  
  
I'll say! she huffed, half serious. What would you have drawn me like, then?  
  
Hm . . . my skills can not do you justice, but . . . he felt her cheeks heat, and so he paused for a moment to savor it, but then continued, I would have drawn you drying on the bank of a hot spring, weapons by your side, healing from bleeding wounds.  
  
She smacked him playfully. Why naked, still!  
  
Well . . . you're so . . . sensible, it represents the naked truth, since she did not find this as amusing as he did, he moved on quickly, you tending your cuts represents you healing from your family, and your weapons shows your violent nature! as if to prove this choice right, she hit him,_ not_ so playfully this time.  
  
Well . . . I didn't do such a good job on your portrait either, she pouted regretfully, Inu Yasha-san's of you was really good; it definitely represented you well.  
  
  
  
I guess . . . I was . . . I just didn't know what to draw, that's all. You're more . . . feelings than a bunch of lines, she blushed, burying her head in his chest with out really being aware of doing so.  
  
He smiled knowingly.  
  
No one is a bunch of lines', Sango-sama, but put together correctly, they can be more than a figure drawn on a page, but an emotion, an expression of that individual, only limited and bad' as their own imagination renders them on paper.  
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A/N: Damn that was long! For me, anyways!   
  
* - this is a quote my old teacher said alot.  
  
** - Sango and Inu Yasha, to me, are TONS a like, so I usually give them a brother sister relationship in my fics.  
  
Please review! Now!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thanks!  
  
  
- warriorG(ir)L  
  
**


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